


In the Early Morning

by the_madame21



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Smut, only lowkey though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 13:58:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9184762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_madame21/pseuds/the_madame21
Summary: Viktor couldn’t contain his sheepish smile, sitting at the edge of the bed while Yuuri rubbed his eyes, lazy hands covering his face.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this post](http://redzonest.tumblr.com/post/155179177800/this-was-supposed-to-be-for-victors-birthday-but) Please enjoy!

Viktor finished buttoning his cuff, unzipping the front pocket of his suitcase to make sure his passport was there. 

It was. 

He tugged anxiously at his ring. The only thing left now was to say goodbye. With a quick brush of his sleeve he checked his watch.

2:58am

He didn’t have to leave for another forty-five minutes. That was both more than enough, and not nearly enough. 

Thinking it over again, Viktor took off his watch, placing it down by his phone, before heading towards his bedroom.

It was dark in their apartment. The way it could only be at three in the morning. Cold, too, outside the bedroom, because Yuuri said it would be a waste to heat up the entire house at night. Quietly clicking the door closed behind him, Viktor slipped into the warmth of their room, Yuuri dozing soundly on his side, his hands curled like a child, the ring on his right hand shining in the darkness. 

Smiling to himself, Viktor climbed into bed, the mattress creaking beneath his weight, the Russian bending down with a slight skip in his heart to kiss Yuuri’s cheek. 

Yuuri stirred, a quiet hum to his voice, and so Viktor kissed him again, a little harder, placing a third kiss right by Yuuri’s eye, enough to make the younger man murmur a drowsy giggle.

“Morning…” 

Viktor couldn’t contain his sheepish smile, sitting at the edge of the bed while Yuuri rubbed his eyes, lazy hands covering his face. 

“I hate when you fly out early.” 

Yuuri’s voice was deeper in the morning. A tired gurgle of a sound that made Viktor’s heart race not because it was adorable, exactly, but mostly because it was _Yuuri,_ and through his tired complaints he _still_ was covering his face, so Viktor reached for his wrists, pulling them away so he could see Yuuri’s dark eyes. 

“I hate leaving you,” he said, pulling Yuuri’s hand up to his lips, kissing his fingertips tenderly. 

Yuuri curled his hand around Viktor’s, gripping it with a sleepy strength that didn’t match the fire in his eyes. 

“Stay with me, then.” 

It wasn’t fair, when Yuuri looked at him like that. 

Viktor brushed the covers away, palming at Yuuri’s bulge, feeling his own skin start to spark with heated goosebumps from the way Yuuri let out the softest of moans, a high pitched sound that was enough to make him close his eyes. 

Viktor nearly hummed in appreciation. 

His hands continued up, sliding his finance’s shirt up so that he could kiss the skin. Yuuri gasped, from the cold of his ring, Viktor knew, his husband’s back arching from the way Viktor peppered kisses up his stomach. 

“Viktor…”

Yuuri’s voice trembled, Viktor’s hands brushing over his nipples, his skin heating up under the Russian’s touch. Viktor murmured in reply against his chest, drawing out his tongue to lick and suckle, his hands still roaming along his sides, the lower part of Viktor’s own chest rubbing up against Yuuri’s bulge. 

But then Viktor started to move back down, leaving a trail of kisses down Yuuri’s stomach, Yuuri’s legs starting to shake anxiously, trembling in anticipation of Viktor’s touch. 

This heat was starting to ache.

“Wait, let me—”

Yuuri struggled, trying to take off his boxers, managing only to lower them to his thighs, Viktor picking up his legs and finishing the task for him. 

With glazed eyes, Yuuri swallowed, watching Viktor toss his tie over his shoulder, positioning himself between Yuuri’s thighs and grabbing his length in his hand, lowering his lips to give the head a teasing lick. 

Yuuri let his head fall back on the pillow, closing his eyes. That sort of thing was too much stimulation so early in the morning. 

“Viktor…d-don’t—”

“Yuuri,” Viktor licked the head again, resting his free hand on the curve of Yuuri’s thigh, doing it on purpose because he knew Yuuri loved being touched there, “Look at me…” 

Viktor loved eye contact, no matter who was on the receiving end. And even though Yuuri didn’t have that sort of strength, he looked at him anyway, because until he did Viktor would do nothing more than teasing licks—

_“Ah—”_

He didn’t have the time to cover his mouth—didn’t care, didn’t _want_ to— when Viktor sunk down on his length, swallowing him up with such ease that it was almost embarrassing, Yuuri’s cheeks hotter than the rest of his body as he grabbed for Viktor’s hair, missing the first time in what felt like a drunken daze, Viktor’s thin strands slipping between his fingers, until Viktor bobbed up and back down again, this time Yuuri closing his fist around the Russian’s locks, tugging at them shamelessly. 

“Viktor…nngh…d-don’t—”

It was short lived, Viktor pulling away after a long suck, sitting up to wipe his mouth while Yuuri was left beneath him, cock pulsing and needy. 

His tie had slipped forward, so he tossed it over his shoulder again, leaning down to kiss Yuuri while reaching for the nightstand, managing to keep the kiss while he dug around their things, the slam of the drawer letting Yuuri know Viktor had found what he was looking for. 

Viktor let the lotion fall from a long streak into his palm, the clear liquid collecting between his fingers in a sticky mess. 

Yuuri’s cock twitched, Viktor leaning in to kiss him one more time, his fingers brushing around Yuuri’s entrance, Yuuri gasping when Viktor pushed two fingers in without very much trouble. 

“You’re so soft here…” 

“Mmm,” Yuuri cupped his face in reply, deepening their kiss and bucking his hips in surprised need.

“I bet it’s still shaped like me…here…” his fingers curled against Yuuri’s walls, Viktor bringing his hand around Yuuri’s neck to keep their kiss in place when the younger male tossed his head back. 

“Vik…” Heavy lashes looked at the Russian, sitting up and leaning in to kiss him all over again, shaky hands brushing over his shoulder, and it wasn’t until then that Viktor realized his tie had fallen again, that in lustful haze Yuuri was still trying to keep it from getting dirty. 

_So precious._

Perhaps he should have been more patient, but he couldn’t help himself, not really, when he added a third finger, sliding in all the way until Yuuri’s base hit the edge of Viktor’s ring. 

Yuuri let out a gasping sort of moan, clutching at the front of Viktor’s shirt, his head falling on Viktor’s shoulder. 

Viktor stopped for a moment, pressing his cheek against Yuuri’s, rubbing the back of his head encouragingly. “You ok?” 

Yuuri nodded quickly, burrowing even further into Viktor’s neck, bringing his arms around to wrap the Russian in a hug, his fingers trembling as he clutched to the back of Viktor’s shirt, sliding down in soft scratches. 

Viktor fumbled around the sheets, palming the mattress because he knew he’d dropped the condom _somewhere,_ wondering if they really needed it, deciding they probably did unless he wanted to take another shower— he didn’t have enough time for that— finding it, finally, bringing it up to his teeth to rip it open because he really didn’t have another option, his other hand still working to stretch Yuuri as much as possible. 

But that was getting rather difficult, the way Viktor’s own heat was pressing against his belt, aching and pulsing and leaking, begging for the sort of relief only Yuuri could provide. 

“Yuuri,” his breath was husky, dark and heavy in a way he almost didn’t recognize, “I can’t—”

“Me neither,” Yuuri squeezed his shoulders, pulling him as he fell back into the bed, his long bangs nearly falling over his eyes. “Please…”

Viktor smiled, pecking Yuuri’s lips, “You’ll have to let go, first.” 

Yuuri seemed reluctant, but nodded anyway, letting his hands slip from Viktor’s shoulders as the Russian stood up, hands immediately going to his belt, still managing to hold onto the opened condom. 

For a moment Yuuri only watched, entranced by the metallic clinking of the buckle, the way Viktor’s large hands undid the button and then moved on to the zipper with an impatient tug, the tip of Viktor’s own excitement making Yuuri’s heart race. Shaking his head, as if he were trying to come back to his senses, Yuuri looked away, grabbing the hem of his shirt—which was really just one of Viktor’s shirts— clumsily trying to pull it over his head. 

Viktor didn’t bother with his shirt, just tossed his tie back _again,_ practically falling onto Yuuri in a sloppy kiss, their heat rubbing together and dripping with precum. 

This time Yuuri _did_ manage to cover his mouth, his shaky moans passing through the palm of his hand, Viktor’s hair falling forward as he shifted, pressing himself slowly into his lover. 

Immediately Yuuri clawed at the front of Viktor’s shirt, his eyes shot in panic, his arched back and trembling legs nearly making Viktor see white, that high pitched whine of a voice begging him _don’t…not like that…_ but how could Viktor do anything _but_ that, if it meant he got to see _that_ face, where Yuuri’s eyes rolled back, biting the back of his hand in a weak attempt to hold himself back, not fooling _anyone,_ because Viktor knew that when Yuuri got lost like that—

“Vi—aahh—”

Maybe he’d whined, maybe he’d tried to say _Vitya_ but it’d become a mess— either way it was one of the sexiest things Viktor had ever heard, Yuuri stupidly trying to push him off, probably because he was spilling all over his own chest. 

Viktor had half a mind to lick it all up. 

And Yuuri was still _whining._ He’d hardly even _moved_ yet. 

He didn’t care anymore. He could get a different shirt. He leaned in, pressing their chests together, Yuuri giving him a fumbly refusal, telling him it was _dirty,_ Viktor saying he didn’t give a _damn,_ pushing Yuuri’s chin up with his nose, craning it just enough so that he could suck at his lover’s neck. 

“D-Don’t…Viktoru—“ He tried to tug at Viktor’s tie, to pull him away, but Viktor only pressed himself closer, granting Yuuri a desperate thrust, sucking even harder on the side of his neck. 

He was rewarded with nails on his back, Yuuri wrapping his legs around Viktor’s, squeezing him in more ways than one. 

“You’re clamping down,” Viktor grunted, licking at the purple blotch that now claimed Yuuri’s neck, “I can hardly move…” 

“Who’s fault—“ Yuuri gasped, fully convinced that Viktor _could,_ in fact, move, “Is that…” The last syllable was muffled by Viktor’s shoulder, Yuuri biting down as the Russian struck him to the core, moving so suddenly that Yuuri nearly cried out. 

“I wish I could take all of this with me.” 

It was deep. Rugged and husky, in a way that felt almost _too_ real, the kind of voice that made Yuuri’s head spin from it’s sheer confidence, the kind of voice Viktor always used when he said they’d be together until the end of time. 

“All of this,” he continued with his steady pace, not needing to go fast or hard because Yuuri was melting anyway, would melt whichever way so long as it was _Viktor,_ and it was exactly that expression Viktor couldn’t get enough of, would _never_ get enough of, wanted to keep and bottle and treasure forever. 

Because Yuuri was panting, a rosy tint to his cheeks that showed brightly on his milk-white skin, his eyes closed and lost, his body responding deliciously to Viktor’s movements, his breathing jagged and abrupt, as if Viktor were stealing it all between kisses. 

The Russian stroked his lover’s cheek, reveling in this moment, in _their_ moment, a tremor running through his body from the way Yuuri leaned into his hand, extending the caress, giving the softest of moans. 

“I want to remember you perfectly.”

And it was enough. Enough for Yuuri to let go of the stupid tie he didn’t realize he’d still been holding, to grab at Viktor in any way he could, hold him in his arms and _not_ let go, because this would be the last time for a while, almost crying but not, because he’d be home soon, just a few days, but the way Viktor said these things made it feel like he was leaving for five years, the strain in his voice and the pain in his eyes making Yuuri feel—

He was pulled up in a sudden rush, placed perfectly in Viktor’s lap, Viktor hugging him tightly, burying his face in Yuuri’s neck. 

“Your voice…” 

Yuuri almost didn’t hear it, it was so lowly murmured against his skin, the brush of Viktor’s lips shooting goosebumps across his nape, but he _felt_ it, the sudden bite that made him _yelp,_ the Russian’s smile against his skin when he did so, the way Viktor’s arms wrapped around him so easily, warm and safe and just _Viktor._

“Your smell…”

Yuuri inhaled almost at the same moment Viktor did, feeling himself tighten from the way Viktor squeezed at Yuuri’s sides, Yuuri slipping his hands under Viktor’s dress shirt, riding it up and up so that their chests could press together, skin to skin. 

Viktor was leaving small, butterfly kisses along Yuuri’s shoulder, peppering them carefully, as if each one were precious. He squeezed again, the hug becoming more intimate.

“Your warmth—”

“Viktor—”

Yuuri grabbed at his cheek, cupping his lover’s face in one hand and bringing him to a kiss, tongues brushing over lips. 

“This,” Viktor’s hands slid down Yuuri’s back, “All of this,” Yuuri kissed him again, cutting him off, but not for very long, Viktor continuing in that husky voice that sent shiver’s down Yuuri’s spine, “The way you feel in my arms.” 

And it was so ridiculous. So _ridiculous,_ because it was only a few days, a mere handful of hours, but Viktor…Viktor…

He’d cupped his face again, their lips only just brushing over each other, the warmth of Viktor’s breath making his heart beat steady and slow. 

“I love you, Yuuri.” 

His heart raced again. They kissed; deeply, knowingly, the way that only came after sharing millions of kisses over millions of hours. And it was soft, slow the way Viktor stiffened against him, tightening his grip, kissing him with more teeth and linking their hands so that their rings met with a small _clink,_ Viktor’s needy thrusts paired with a low whine at the base of his throat.

And Yuuri didn’t want to let go, for a moment hated the feel of the condom because he could sense the heat but nothing more, _wanted_ more, wanted them to stay just as they were, go again and again and sleep the day away.

Viktor kissed Yuuri’s ring, sliding out slowly, Yuuri giving out a childish whimper as Viktor gently laid him back down.

“I have to change shirts,” he murmured, kissing Yuuri’s cheek and rolling over him, trying to get off the bed. But Yuuri grabbed at his back, clinging almost desperately, keeping his face buried in his pillow and his hands closed in fists. 

“Stay…” 

Viktor kissed him again. “You’ll be asleep soon. I’ll wipe you down, ok?” 

Yuuri nodded reluctantly, slowly letting go of Viktor’s shirt and letting him go change. 

Viktor was fast, already wearing pants and adjusting his tie when he came back out of the bathroom, rag in hand to wipe off Yuuri’s chest. 

He couldn’t help but smile, seeing that peaceful expression on Yuuri’s face, soft inhales making his chest rise and fall, his hands curled just as they were before, sound asleep. And so Viktor wiped him down, considered giving him a new pair of boxers but decided against it, threw the covers over his husband and carefully tucked him in, giving him a final kiss on the cheek while linking their fingers one more time. 

Viktor squeezed Yuuri’s hand, thinking he had to leave now or he really might just stay, and so without much more thought he walked out of their room, closing the door as quietly as he could. With calculated patience, Viktor made it to the front door and checked his suitcase over one more time. Just as he was putting his watch back on, the metal biting his skin with cold, his phone began to ring, the taxi driver announcing his arrival.

Muttering goodbye under his breath, Viktor shut the front door, shoving his keys in his pocket and focusing while he waited for the elevator. He swiped at the screen, a photo of Yuuri and Makkachin behind a birthday cake smiling back at him.

The elevator pinged, the doors opening, and so Viktor rolled his suitcase in, letting it rest before he grabbed his phone with both hands, and began to type.

_I miss you already._


End file.
